


An Octopus, a Step Stool, and Bewdiful Cards

by ifwegettherebysunset



Series: Morning After [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning After, Step Stools are Serious Business, or they will be if Atem has anything to say about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 04:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10180988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwegettherebysunset/pseuds/ifwegettherebysunset
Summary: If Atem wins, KaibaCorp will be left alone for the morning. He has a three-step strategy to do it.Game Start.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DrummerDancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrummerDancer/gifts).



> Big thank you to DrummerDancer for the encouragement on domestic prideshipping, and for making me feel welcome ^^

_0500  
_ _Kaiba Mansion_

Seto's eyelids snap apart. His brain processes the date, time, and to-do list before they're fully open. The rest of his brain's a little slow on the uptake, a frustrating habit he has yet to break whenever it registers Atem in his bed. According to his brain, Atem in bed = Stay in bed.

Ludicrous.

Atem is sleeping on his stomach, both arms under his pillow. After last night, his hair has been pulled every which way, making it impossibly weirder to look at, and his dark skin is darker in some spots along his back. Seto starts to smirk at how many marks there are until he looks at his own body and realizes with a grimace that Atem somehow managed to get more on him.

One of these days, Seto will best him.

His eyes, resigned to constant strain at this point, adjust as best they can to the dark room. It's just enough for Seto to see the upturned Monopoly board, slightly covered by Atem's shirt where he'd thrown it off. A trail of clothes leads to the bed. Seto calculates the quietest path around the carnage and rolls over.

Before he can move the sheets, four limbs constrict his torso.

Seto growls, "What do you think you're doing?"

"No," Atem replies.

" _Get off_."

"No."

Seto grits his teeth. "Then I'll just have to make you."

Within the next twenty seconds, Atem has Seto in a headlock and is yanking at him as if he were an unruly horse. His legs continue to tighten around him.

"I. Said.  _No_ ," he rumbles in Seto's ear.

"I have a company to run, you petulant child!" Seto hisses through his hold.

"A company that does not need your constant attention. It is Sunday. Go back to sleep."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Don't make me call security!"

"Seto. You will relax."

Seto tries elbowing him, but Atem's been through real battle in his past. He refuses to be cowed.

Then he asks Seto, "Isn't it  _your_ company? Can a business that belongs to you really need so much interference?"

Seto is turning purple. "Is that a challenge?"

"You see everything as a challenge, Seto. I suppose it may as well be."

Every nerve in Seto's body rails at him to defeat Atem. If he doesn't accept, he forfeits automatically―unacceptable. But if he concedes now, Atem will have won this argument. Also unacceptable.

Seto relaxes in Atem's hold. "One hour."

"...well, it's a start."

Atem releases him in increments. He knows Seto enough to be suspicious, which is both irritating and strangely gratifying.

Seto throws himself off the mattress the second he's able. "One hour to get to work with your childish ranting!"

" _Seto_!" Atem roars.

There's no time to retaliate. One moment, Seto is standing up, and the next, his back is once again slammed against Atem's chest. For someone so small, Atem knows how to use his weight.

Seto puts his whole body into the struggle as Atem puts his into holding his ground. His chin is on Seto's head now, pressing down as hard as he constricts. A minute passes like this.

At the beginning of the next minute, Seto finds himself flagging no matter how hard he tries. Atem takes advantage, shoving him on his side and up on the soft pillows.

"You had a late night even before Mokuba called me," Atem murmurs over their panting, "you're exhausted, Seto."

"I'm  _fine_ ," Seto grumbles. It's humiliating how petty he sounds.

"But you could be better." Atem noses his hair. "Go back to sleep."

Whatever. Isono will knock on the door before the hour's up anyway. He's never let Seto down.

 

Isono doesn't knock.

Seto wakes to find his brain humming  _1000 hours_ and no Atem in bed.

The next few minutes are spent in an ungraceful scramble that's followed by the bedroom door slamming open and Seto Kaiba bellowing "Isono!" at the top of his lungs.

Mokuba practically bounces up to him, still in pajamas. "I told him last night not to wake you."

" _Why_?" Seto snarls.

"Because Atem was staying the night," Mokuba replies simply, "and it's Sunday. Turns out Atem can make pancakes too! Come on!"

He drags Seto by the hand. Seto doesn't want to risk hurting him by shaking him off and barreling to the car. Neither brother sees hide nor hair of a servant or the traitorous Isono, not even when they reach the vast kitchen. True to Mokuba's word, it's only Atem in there, humming as he makes pancakes.

"Ah," he says when he sees them, "how does it feel to wake up at a reasonable hour, Seto?"

Seto will never tell him that he hasn't felt more refreshed in years, or that he can actually feel how hungry he is.  _Ever_. Instead, he curses him out―the words inadvertently come out in Ancient Egyptian, but at least Mokuba won't be able to understand.

Atem chuckles. "Come now, I'm sure everyone at KaibaCorp will be relieved at how much better you look today. One good night's rest won't kill you."

"It could kill KaibaCorp's productivity," Seto snaps.

Mokuba and Atem pin him with identical unimpressed stares.

Another three pancakes are flipped. While they cook, Atem pads to a nearby closet and retrieves a step stool with the ease of someone experienced with this house. He lays it out in front of a corner cabinet and steps up to retrieve cinnamon.

"Toast, Seto?" he asks.

Seto gently lets Mokuba go so his fists can shake at his sides. " _No_."

"I'll have some!" Mokuba chirps.

Seto storms up to Atem. With the step stool, they're now eye-level.

He leans in close. "You'll pay for this."

Atem smiles and gives him a quick kiss. "Did you know you have a waffle iron shaped like a Blue Eyes?" (Of course he does. Seto's the one who bought the damn thing.) "I thought I'd give that a try as well. With blueberries, of course."

"This. Isn't. Over."

Atem pecks his forehead. "I'd be worried if it was, Seto. But we can't duel on empty stomachs, can we?"

"...what's that supposed to mean."

"It means we'll be making good use of that dueling arena downstairs after breakfast. Unless," Atem tilts his head, "you're planning on running off to your Tower."

Seto's eyes narrow. "You think I'd back down from a duel against  _you_?"

Atem gazes  _lovingly_ at him. _Ugh._ "You always have time for our duels."

"Then get your deck ready,  _Pharaoh_. Enjoy your last meal as King of Games!"

As Seto storms off to get the Blue Eyes waffle iron, Atem hops down from his stool and gives Mokuba a high-five.


End file.
